


Colored Memories

by TheNobodyofaSOLDIER



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angst, Comfort, Comfort Sex, Depression, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, One-Sided Attraction, Sexual Content, Yandere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 07:21:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28952592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNobodyofaSOLDIER/pseuds/TheNobodyofaSOLDIER
Summary: One shots for "K-Project!" More characters will be added later!
Relationships: Fushimi Saruhiko/Reader, Munakata Reishi/Reader, Suoh Mikoto/Reader, Yatogami Kurou/Reader
Kudos: 14





	1. Hiding Place

[Kuroh x Abused!Reader]

The fragile fingers of snowflakes caressed her cheeks as they greeted the earth with their light embrace. The grey clouds cast a monochrome shadow over the busy city. Citizens gather into their vehicles to seek sanctuary from the cold.

As does she, but her peace resides not in a fine home or shelter but a dark alley, concealed from wandering eyes.

She tightens the scarf about her shivering shoulders as she speeds across the street. The snow crunches beneath her. The wind carries her with it, like faded leaves in a flowing river. Releasing a white breath of air, warmth bubbles in her chest as she perceives him in the darkness; eyes deeper than the midnight blue sky, hair blacker than the wings of a raven.

Upon seeing her entrance into this hiding place, he opens the doors to his arms, and she enters.

Nothing but warmth enfolds her being. It seeps into the weakened chambers of her mind and soothes the damage there. Nimble fingers wade through the waterfall of knotted locks cascading over her shoulders. As he holds her tightly to his chest, he rests his chin into the crook of her neck, making sure his love is perfectly linked with her.

A wayfarer she once was, a tired creature, searching for peace from a home full of chaos. Bound together with a man full of repressed anger. This beast revealed itself through blooms of purple and red adorning her fragile skin. Fearing for her own life, she ran. She ran as far as her tired legs could carry her. With no plan, no sense of direction, she fled. She clung to a thin shred of hope still burning within her.

And after days of roaming the winter wasteland, he found her.

A chance encounter it seemed. He came, just as that little fire within her flickered and trembled, threatening to extinguish altogether. He came when everything inside her was ready to fall numb. Despite only being strangers, he understood her just by reading the story painted on her skin, the despair splattered across her canvas.

So, he reached out to her. He shielded her. He protected her. Only there at his side did she find the least bit of comfort or serenity. He handled her as if she had been a porcelain doll, a precious gem easy to be cracked and deserving painstaking care.

Being dragged back into the hellhole she was forced to call her home hurt more than the hand of her husband without the chance of saying goodbye.

Trapped.

Again.

Her wings had been pinned like a butterfly’s. The rope around her neck tightened once more, and she lost all hopes of breathing.

But, visions of her guardian in the shadows, the Black Dog, her knight, floated in her mind, invaded her dreams.

After night fell, she crept away from her prison, out into the fresh air.

There, in the darkness, she met her knight.

Her hiding place...

The flakes thicken, piling around their ankles. Even the light from the street lamps fail to locate their sanctuary.

Pressing his back against the wall, he becomes the barrier she hides behind, the pillar of strength she so needs. They lose each other in their eyes, exchanging their feelings through silence. He cradles her in his arms, tracing little patterns on the back of her neck. She slides delicate fingers through his hair. She leans in close, longing for his scent, his touch. With a breath warming her face, the rims of his lips trace over her own, a kiss lighter than air, but the tingling sensations are more than any acts of passion between the sheets or dramatic speeches could offer. The tips of frigid fingers traces over the heated marks embedded into her skin. She winces a little at the aches, but she trusts him. With every bit of her broken heart, she trusts him.

It pains him to see her this way. Being so delicate,so fragile, the horror that hovers her is too great for her trembling shoulders. As he presses her close to him, he longs so much to steal her away from the terror of her world, but the fear of their enemies tracking them down once more haunts him.

He must wait until the right moment.

He must wait until they least expect it.

Then, he would take her in his arms, her hiding place once and for all.


	2. Running Blind

[Munakata x Reader]

“Here you are, sir,” you muttered.

A quick breath, a push of his silver rims up the bridge of his nose, Reisi Munakata, the Blue King, Captain of Scepter 4, removed the warm sheets of paper from your fingers.

“Thank you,” he replied curtly and immediately absorbed himself in the black and white information scattered across the paper.

Despite this seemingly meaningless behavior, a sting shot from your fingertips down your arm, straight into your heart.

A touch colder than ice...

You knew of no greater honor than working in higher ranks of the Blue Clan, so close to the King himself. Always had you been a career focused person, always longing to rise as far as you could manage. You cared for nothing but your own well being, your own fortune. But, having no one else close in your life, this was perfectly understandable. 

You always perceived Reisi as nothing more but your Captain, an authority figure that you were to follow without question. He commanded you and your comrades. He lead you into battle, to victory, even defeat, and you followed with absolute trust. 

Blindly did you run to him, putting every consequence aside. 

The higher you rose in your ranks, the closer you approached his blue flame. 

Without considering what the consequences might bring, you reached out to touch these licks of fire.

And in return your fingers were scorched, charred...

Your heart swelled for him. Beneath that frigid surface concealed a heart that put the well being of his men and the innocent lives he protected before his own. You witnessed a softer side of him as he pieced together little puzzles sprawled across his desk or failed to socialize with coworkers. You caught yourself in the midst of longing gazes, observing as he rested his chin on the back of his hand, eyes clouded, dark hair shielding his face, always lost in thought. 

As much as you hated to admit it, as much as you attempted to suppress and hide it, feelings for him blossomed within you. Visions of those cold yet alluring eyes invaded your dreams as you slept, leaving you tossing and turning. Festering and spreading, he infected your mind like a virus.   
It felt so sick and wrong, but the excitement, the strange pleasure you felt in longing for something you could never possess was a thrill even you could not ignore. 

Life with him was often ambiguous and unpredictable, but it was the life you chose.

And you ran blindly after it, after him.

You put aside your own needs for his sake.

But, this strange rush, this obsession came with consequences. 

Your nightly visions, these phantoms soon brought tears to your eyes in the night. Gripping sheets, burying your face in the softness of your pillow, you screamed, shouted, anything to release those exhausting emotions, to loosen the burden from your tired heart.

But, despite the tears and cries, despite the loss of sleep, he would never see. 

He would never see the flush tainting your cheeks as he spoke to you. He would never see the hitch in your breath as he entered the room, the long, affectionate gazes you were so certain would give away every unspoken word inside you.

Yet, you still ran for him. You would still follow him, even if it cost everything, 

_running blind..._

Your mouth dried as you swallowed. A lick of your lips, and a slow inhale, you managed to utter,

“Will that be all?”

A moment of silence as he absorbed the information, then at last, his oceans of blue met your own. Then, the smallest of smiles rested on his lips.

And for a moment, you completely forget to breathe.

“That will be all,” he replied smoothly. “Thank you very much.”

Your heart soared.

Every word directed towards you, no matter how cold or proper, you treasured more dearly than your possessions. 

You would always cherish this forbidden, unrequited love, no matter the pain it caused you.  
And you would always run for him, following his orders, serving at his side, your love, your king,

_...running blind..._


	3. Numb

[Fushimi x Depressed!Reader]

Meaningless.

That was all it ever would be to you.

It was all it ever would be to him.

Yet, here you found yourself again, exchanging hard, fervent kisses, tangling limbs, giving yourself up to the last person you ever wanted to even share the same breath with.

And he knew it too.

Your heart belonged to another; the captain of your division, the Blue King no less. You fell hard for him, aching, pining for so much as a glance from him.

Yet, you received nothing.

He turned away. He lost himself in his work. So consumed was he by his responsibilities, he possessed not even the strength to look your way.

And it killed you, little by little.

You would stay up to the ungodly hours of the indulging your sorrows in alcohol in attempts to numb the pain. As much as you despised listening to the repetitive voices torturing you, you loved the solitude of the night, the silence it brought. You felt the troubles of the day melting away into nothing...

...until he crept in, shattering the peace you formed.

Without you even uttering a word, he perceived your pain. He pieced everything together so quickly, your self destructive habits, the gazes of longing you directed at the Blue King, the way you cried yourself to sleep, sprawled over the table, drowning in your sorrow.

He witnessed it all...

...and he loved every second.

He loved to torture you this way, ridiculing you for such a forbidden love. He stole sips of your drink and teased you, mirrored your very appearance with a sly smile. Once you finally received your full of these snide remarks, his game took a turn for the worst. He crept up behind you in the midst of your wallowing, whispering sinful desires into your ear. Deft fingertips ghosted over places you tried to hard to keep secret.

Yet, despite the utter disgust you held towards him, you did nothing to stop him. In fact, you found a twisted pleasure and thrill in his actions.

At least, it numbed the aching for only a little.

Thus, he lured you into his darkness, a darkness filled with illicit actions, words of lust, empty, shallow. He broke your barriers and left your skin marred, left nothing untouched.

It was a sickening indulgence.

But, anything to deaden the torment was enough.

And knowing how much you despised this, yet still always fell for his ploys, still returned to his cold embrace, made it all the more exciting for him.

He became your addiction, worse than any alcohol, worse than any drug.

And you inhaled every last bit him until you were certain you would choke to death.

As you entwined yourself with him, once again, listening to his words, allowing him to imprint another reminder of his ownership of you into his skin, you wondered just how long this would last. Whether it be for another day, weeks or months, you would always return to him. You would accept every word, every kiss and bite, every filthy deed he utilized to keep you under his spell.

You deserved the sense of contempt you felt towards yourself afterwards.

But, with him, no matter how toxic he was to you, the sadness would be washed away...

Anything to numb the pain...


	4. Checkmate

[Yandere!Munakata x Reader]

The rusted, cold metal of shackles cut into the skin of your wrists, your ankles, your neck. Your lungs tightened as a burdening fear threatened to break and crush you.

Cold orbs of blue stabbed you through silver frames as he watched your every move,

your master, your king.

“Your turn,” he muttered, leaning against his hand.

Pangs of sharp pain shot through your neck as you swallowed hard. With a slow breath, he inhaled another bit of his cigarette. He scrutinized your every move, as he had done so under his rule as the Blue King. As a soldier working for him, you followed his every order and demand without question.

If only you witnessed the monster growing behind his cool exterior...

With a trembling hand, you reached for another piece. The white glass rattled against the board as you pondered, calculated the wisest move,

the move that would lead you to your freedom...

His gaze was a needle pinning you, forcing you in place. Your veins ran cold, and your heart pounded your chest until you were certain it bruised.

You mind wiped itself clean, and all you knew to do was pray, pray for survival.

And thus, you placed the piece, the white queen, into the nearest black square.

You almost visualized yourself as that little piece of ivory, falling into the darkness of the board.

With a short breath, you waited.

A cold sneer spread across his cheek. Without a moment’s hesitation, the black king in hand, he completed his strategy, luring you right into his trap.

Your heart dropped.

This was it.

It was over.

Before he spoke, he slowly rose from his seat with the elegance carried in his title. The tips of his fingers traced along the rim of the table as he paced himself towards you, dark eyes full of a twisted amusement. Your trembling shoulders hunched when he halted before.

He drew himself closer and closer to you, his breath against your skin. His chilly fingers held you by your chin, and you were forced to meet that terrifying stare, so calm yet struck a paralyzing fear into your heart.

Slowly and teasingly, he took your lips into a deep, soul sucking kiss. Too tired were you to deny his power, and all you knew to do was whimper into his mouth. He sunk his teeth into your bottom lip before pulling away to look at you once more.

And with a deep chuckle and a glimmer in his sapphire eyes, he uttered the one word that would seal your fate for eternity:

“Checkmate.”


	5. Meus...

[Yandere!Fushimi x Reader]

“Say it.”

“Stop it-! Let me go!”

The cold rim of the pistol burrows into your temple. Your tears distort the muted light and darkness into a unrecognizable blur. Claw-like nails dig into the tender skin of your wrists as they are aggressively pinned into the curve of your back. The force implemented crushes you into the cold, brick floor, crushing your ribs and windpipe, preventing any hope of one breath.

Heated breath feathers against the shell of your ear as it comes in slow and staggered.

And then he laughs an eerie laughs. It chokes and rattles in his throat.

Your limbs slowly grow numb, and your mind draws a blank.

“Then,” he mutters, taking the shell of your ear between his teeth. The sudden, sharp pain tears a yelp from your lips. “Say. It.”

You whimper and tremble. You wish so much to backtrack and leave this organization forever.

How were you to know that this wolf in sheep’s clothing would hunt for you? He lured you in with enticing eyes and a devilish smile you found all too appealing.

Why...why did you submit to those carnal desires? You knew it was wrong, both personally and professionally, yet, you surrendered.

Despite the utter terror surging through you, a part of you, a little voice in the back of your mind whispers,

“You earned this...This is your fault.”

Swallowing the huge, painful lump in your throat, you mutter against the weight and pressure of his body crushing yours,

“I...belong to you...”

A twisted smile spreads across his cheeks. He releases you ever so slightly from being trapped against the floor, but before you can move, he presses you against him, chest tight against yours. His breath comes hot and ragged on your neck as he burrows his face into the bruised skin.

And all you do is let him take you.

“That’s right,” he says with a thin laugh after sinking his teeth into a purple bloom in the crook of your neck. “You are absolutely right.”

You whimper, utterly helpless. “F-Fushimi...”

“You are _mine_...”


	6. The Moth and the Flame

[Yandere!Mikoto x Reader]

“Don’t move.”

Fingernails sharper than a needle’s point dig into your delicate, tender wrists. Hot sweat lightly coats over heated forms with a filmy glaze. A mess of flaming hair tickles your forehead, hair veiling a pair of eyes lit with a seething envy and a blazing, twisted lust you never knew existed. Strong hips press into your own further pinning you to the sheets beneath you, the fibers like broken glass against sensitive nerves.

You dare not make a sound.

Hell, you refuse to let a breath of air escape your trembling lips.

But, with his eyes narrowing into thin slits, a dark smile stretches across his mouth, and guttural chuckle vibrates in his throat.

“Why that face?” he says with a hint of amusement tinting his voice. “This was what you asked for, right?”

Your lungs seem to twist and tighten. Your head throbs. Your veins threaten to burst as your body begs, yearns for even a hint of air.

Yet, you cannot bring yourself to. Fear’s icy grip clutches you far too tightly.

Truth be told, you once longed for your leader, for the fiery touch of the Red King. Ashamed as you were of these thoughts, too loud, too vivid were they to be ignored. Yet, you caged everything within, stored and locked them away, with the intention of them never to be discovered.

And so you left them to wither away, only to float before you in heated dreams and broken visions.

He tugs at the collar surrounding your neck, sinking pearly teeth into the now exposed skin. Squeezing your eyes together, tears stream down placid cheeks. Your fists curl in his jacket as you cling to him, almost desperately.

Could it be that you are still drawn to him, that those pathetic fantasies you conjured up so long ago?

Those limpid, crimson eyes never ceased to leave you. Not once did he fall for your flimsy disguise. The shiver of your body as he passed by, your gazes full of longing and desire, just these subtle signals were enough to open doors meant to stay closed.

Unbeknownst to you, however, a fire within him started to rise...higher...higher.

Without you realizing it, you spotted the allure to this deadly light.

And like a moth to a flame, you drew closer...closer....closer still...

Until the scorching flames consumed all that was left of you.

Aggressive, hungry kisses bruise your mouth. You are certain your lungs are bursting as every bit of air is stolen away. He cages you with his body preventing all hopes of escape. Your entire body pulses from the stress of your rapidly, beating heart.

As you pull away, gasping for air, long fingers encircle your chin, and you are forced once again to gaze into those eyes, those terrifying yet enticing eyes.

And a dark smile spreads across his lips.

You know this love would be the end of you, that this fire would drag you down beyond any hope of return.

And yet, that makes it all the more thrilling...


	7. Burn Scars

[Mikoto x Reader]

“Watch who you love, honey,” your mother would say. “Love is like a fire. It either warms or consumes you. Don’t ever let your heart be consumed. Such is an injury with little hope of recovery.”

To a naive mind, this was nothing more than an obvious statement. 

Why would you _ever_ fall for someone that could hurt you? Why would anyone? 

Of course, you had no idea how foolish the heart could be. It longed for things it couldn’t have. It yearned for things the mind put away as meaningless or worse, a danger to your well-being. 

That was until yours began chasing after a forbidden fruit, the King of HOMRA. 

_Suoh Mikoto._

Ever since your admission into the Red Clan, you found an undeniable attraction to the man. Perhaps it was his relaxed demeanor in contrast to his rough appearance. Perhaps it was his nonchalant attitude towards his title, content with being seen as just another one of his fellow Clansmen. Perhaps it was simply his striking features, his tussled, crimson hair and gleaming, amber eyes. No one would have blamed you. Feeling his calloused hand clasp your own as his Aura began to surround you would have made you weak at the knees had it not been for your reception hanging in the balance.

As time passed on, that fire inside you only grew,

and he could sense it, despite keeping a perfect poker face.

Then, one sleepless night lead you to the bar and a couple of whiskey bottles. Mikoto sat nearby, ashtray at his side, eyes glazed over, cigarette balancing within the space of his fingers. Before ending your ability to think coherently with another drink, you mustered the courage to speak to him. This was the first time you had a chance to really speak one on one with him, minus Izumo tending to his tasks.

Much to your surprise, your efforts were not in vain. Changing his seat closer to your side, he returned your greeting which opened the door for a conversation that would carry over to early hours of the morning, when the sky of midnight blue began to lighten bit by bit with hues of purple and pink. Thick clouds still cast a darkness over what little daybreak began peaking over the horizon. Silence fell between you two, and only shared gazes spoke of hidden secrets and uncertainties, straining to break free, screaming to be known.

All it took was a press to your lips, and the flame ignited. 

As you breathed in his scent, pulling him closer to you,;the erratic beating of your heart surged throughout your body.

And you were done for. 

The fire had grown too strong for you to escape, and it swallowed you whole with no hope of ever returning. 

But, you liked it this way, and you hoped to ever remain tortured by this heat. 

Another afternoon found you still in bed, watching rain droplets streak down the pane of your window. The smell of smoke still clung to the air, the slow cycling of the fan only spreading it further. Shifting yourself on your side, you watched Mikoto lying at your side, perfectly still. Anyone might have thought him to be dead had it not been for the slow rise and fall of his chest, maybe the occasional twitch of his nose. Peaking over his form, you spotted the ashtray at his bedside table, filled to the brim with the ends of cigarettes. A smile teased the ends of your lips as you examined his serene form: the slight crinkle at the corners of the eyes, the little slits along his mouth, the white skin of his chest occasionally painted with a wrinkled scar, once left behind by a flame. The tip of your finger gently traced the outline of those marks before you leaned forward to kiss one of them. 

Much to your surprise, you perceived a low grunt rattle his throat, and a hand flopped itself on the back of your head.

“Nnng, stop that,” he mumbled.

“Really? You can sleep through a bash to the head, but you wake up when I kiss you?” you laughed, returning to your side. 

“That’s different,” as if tied to an anvil, he slowly rolled in your direction, eyes meeting with yours. “That tickles.”

You cocked an eyebrow. 

“That... _tickles._ ”

“What?”

With a sigh, you simply shook your head, brushing aside a few loose strands of his hair. 

“Ah, never mind,” you replied before taking his chin and planting a gentle kiss on his lips. 

Before you could pull away, long fingers tangled themselves within your hair, setting you in place. A long sigh emanated within your mouth as he slowly moved his lips against yours. 

The taste of cigarette and alcohol enveloped your palate: such a seemingly disgusting combination, yet you relished every minute of it. 

You loved his kisses outside of aggressive sex. Long and slow, he always made sure to leave you breathless when he finished.

It never failed. 

Even now, the skin of your cheeks always tainted with red, and your heart fluttered with euphoria. 

The fanning of these intense flames never stopped, despite growing so comfortable with one another. 

Never would it end. You would always be left behind with burn scars from his fire.

Even if it meant leading you to your end, you would always jump into the sea of flames, hoping to be consumed by it.

With one more slow exhale, he finally separated from you, noses still touching, dragging a finger along your jaw. You panted slightly, and your ear drums rang with the sound of your pulse. 

Just as you were about to fall into an ecstatic trance, with a grunt, he rolled atop you placing his cheek on your chest. Overwhelmed with his weight, you yelped.

“H-hey-!”

“Hm, pretty comfy,” he grumbled, nestling himself into you.

“You are freaking heavy,” you whimpered and bat his arm. “Get off me.”

“What? So you can lay on me all the time, and I can’t?”

“You’re twice my weight!”

Instead of an actual reply, he simply hummed and draped his arms around you.

“Oh, come on.”

In a matter of seconds, and in his usual fashion, he was off asleep for probably the next century. Despite your obvious discomfort, you didn’t have the heart to move him nor the will to even attempt waking him. With a yawn, you rested your arms around him, allowing yourself to follow his suit.

It was a lazy afternoon after all.

No need to move now.


End file.
